Picking Up the Laundry
by menolly-au
Summary: When House embarks on a campaign to win back Wilson's friendship Foreman discovers that Wilson isn't quite what he seems. Spoilers for season 8, AU to 8.02. A little humour, a little crack, a little meta...not to be taken seriously.


"Doctor Wilson, a word with you?" Foreman entered Wilson's office, closing the door firmly behind him. Wilson was sitting behind his desk busily writing away, although Foreman couldn't see what he was working on. Foreman made a mental note to put aside some money in the next budget to buy the poor guy a computer.

He did a double take as he came further into the room. It seemed like half of the available floor space was taken up by an enormous fruit basket, which seemed to have beer bottles coming out of it at odd angles.

"Foreman, what can I do for you?" Wilson looked up at him genially, a polite smile on his lips.

Foreman poked at the fruit basket, discovering an expensive bottle of whiskey lurking at the bottom, and a magazine on restoring barns of all things. He pulled it out, wondering if there was porn lurking behind the innocent cover, but no, it was a magazine on restoring barns.

"Where did this," he waved his arm at the lavish basket, "come from?"

"It just appeared there this morning, no note on it."

"And these..." Foreman nodded at two large movie posters, complete with glass frames, propped up against the wall. One was for The Green Mile, the other for the Shawshank Redemption.

"They came yesterday. No note on those either." Wilson's expression was bland and pleasant, but Foreman wasn't fooled.

"House?"

"Almost certainly."

"Why is he sending you gifts? I thought you two weren't friends any more?"

"He's 'winning me back'. Monday's gift was two tickets to the monster truck rally next weekend. On Tuesday he sent Doctor Adams to my office with instructions to tell me that I could do anything I wanted with her, she was my slave for the day."

"Okay...you know that's not legal don't you?" Foreman was imagining a sexual harassment suit being filed as they spoke, _he _didn't appear to be immune from normal employment laws as Cuddy had seemed to be, he'd have to email her and ask her what her secret was one day.

"And Wednesday he did my clinic hours," Wilson finished, ignoring his question. "He's also done some research for a paper I started writing while he was...away, and obtained some notes on some trials being conducted at the Mayo Clinic which I'm sure nobody outside that hospital is supposed to have access to. On Thursday there were two hundred balloon animals all over the children's oncology ward."

Foreman stared at him, astonished. "He must _really _want to be your friend again."

"Apparently he does." Wilson smiled fondly. "He had his hair cut short this morning, I told him once he looked good with a buzz cut."

Foreman looked at Wilson's fairly short hair cut but refrained from mentioning it.

"And when do you think you might forgive him and be his friend again? Sometime before hell freezes over or the twelve drummers drumming appear in the lobby?"

Wilson smiled, "what makes you think I haven't?"

"You've forgiven him?"

"Of course."

"So, why aren't you friends any more?"

"Who says we aren't?"

"Well, you did...wait, you're _playing _him?" Foreman stared at Wilson who kept on smiling, a satisfied look on his face. "You're stringing him along...but what about your wrist? He nearly ran you over!"

Wilson shrugged. "Of all the things House has done to me over the years, that was barely a blip on the radar. No big deal. It's not like he was trying to hurt anyone, he was just having a bad day."

Foreman shook his head. "It seems a bit...mean," he finished weakly. He couldn't believe he was paying any consideration to House's feelings and it seemed that neither could Wilson, he raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"If I forgave him straight away he'd think it was suspicious and spend the next six months looking for the catch. This way he'll think he's earned it and relax."

"And in the meantime you get all these..." Foreman waved his hand at the room.

"Hey, monster truck rally tickets, those are hard to get. As soon as I 'forgive' him he'll be back to his usual asshole self - might as well get something out of the deal while I can."

Foreman stared at him, before realising that his mouth was hanging open in a manner not in keeping with his new elevated status in the hospital. He'd known Wilson for years but had always mentally dismissed him as the dumb but loyal friend, as cuddly as a teddy bear and about as harmless. It seemed he was wrong.

"Was there anything else, Foreman?"

Foreman shook his head wordlessly, he couldn't even remember why he came here.

He left the office, only to fall over something on the floor just outside the door. Lying on the ground, he looked around to see a flock of pink flamingos lined up along the corridor. They were in pairs, one half of each pair was dressed in a little labcoat and tie, the other one had a cane attached to its wing. When he looked up he caught a glimpse of a scruffy doctor limping quickly out of sight.

Foreman let his head drop back down to the carpet with a thud. He had the feeling that this was going to be a very long year.


End file.
